


Memories

by Agnes_Oakenshield



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Character Death, Drunk Thorin, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agnes_Oakenshield/pseuds/Agnes_Oakenshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin gets drunk on his brothers birthday and has a flashback to the battle of Moria</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone :) this is my very first story, I originally wrote it as a RP starter, but now decided to publish it after two of my friends said it was good enough.  
> I picture this Thorin like the Thorin in the Hobbit movies, but took the other facts from the Appendices in the Lord of the Rings, where he actually had a brother named Frerin who died in the battle of Moria.

Thorin sat in his study room, just starring in front of him. On the desk before him, there stood a bottle of liquid. He wasn't even exactly sure what it was, but it was some pretty strong stuff. Now and then, he took a sip from that bottle and by now it was more than half empty, and Thorin was slightly drunk. Maybe more than just slightly... but he didn't care about that. Right now, he didn't actually care about anything, if he was honest. There was just one thing he could think about, only one thought in his head: Today would have been his little brothers birthday.  
This kept floating through his head and he could do nothing against it.

He remembered how Frerin always used to joke about that he wanted to be older that Thorin one day, that he would probably live longer than his older brother. This memory made Thorin smile a little, although it was a really sad smile. But this also caused his eyes to fill with tears. His brother only had reached the age of 48 when he had died, what was quite young for a dwarf... Thorin tried to blink the tears away, but as that didn't quite work, he rose his hand to his eyes and wiped them a little. Then he took the bottle from his desk and sipped from it before he stood up and started pacing through the room, the bottle still in his hand. He sipped from it every now and then, until it was completely empty. With a deep sigh he put the empty bottle back on his desk, but was still pacing through the room. While he did so, even more memories came up. Memories he would have preferred to forget... but he knew that he would never be able to forget them...

When Smaug had come and stole their homeland.  
How he and the other survivors of the dragon attack wandered the wild and lived in Dunland for years.  
When he had last seen his grandfather, Thrór, before he went to Moria only with the dwarf Nár as company.  
How Nár came back, all alone but with a message from an Orc: Thrór was dead.  
How his father, Thráin, had wept, before falling silent for seven days. That had been the first time Thorin had seen his father weeping, and it had hurt him in a way he thought nothing else could.  
How three years later a dwarven army started marching to Moria.  
How the first assault, led by Thráin, was thrown back and driven into the wood around the Kheled-zâram.  
How Frerin died there, while Thráin and Thorin himself only were wounded.  
How he held his little brother, who was laying on the ground, mortally wounded. Frerin had looked up at the elder one and Thorin had seen the fear and pain in the eyes of his brother. “Thorin...? How bad is it?” Frerin had asked him. Thorin had hesitated. His brother was bleeding badly from several wounds all over his body. The worst was in his stomach, apparently an Orc had stabbed him. “You will be all right, brother.” he finally said, half to himself, although he knew that wasn't true. He felt how his eyes filled with tears. “It hurts so much... please, make it stop... make it stop, Thorin.” Frerin whispered with tears in his own eyes. “I… I can't... this pain is too much...” the young Dwarf added and closed his eyes for a moment before he looked into Thorins again. “I.. I don't know how, Frerin.” he whispered and Frerin clung onto his arm. 'He looks so scared...' Thorin thought. 'Just like he did when he was little.'  
“You will be alright, Frerin. I promise....” he couldn't speak any further and now it was Thorin who closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't bear looking into the eyes of his little brother, it hurt way too much... But he immediately opened his eyes and looked at Frerin again when the grip on his arm got less tight. Scared, he looked at his brothers face. “Frerin?” he asked, but there was no answer. “No! Frerin, please!” He repeated his brothers name a few more times, although he knew that he would get no answer. Because his brother was dead...  
But when he heard someone yelling his name, he blinked a little and looked around, realizing the fights all around him once again. He somehow had forgotten where he was and what was going on... it had been his father who called for him. He and a couple of other dwarves apparently had tried to hold the Orcs back from Thorin and his dying brother... “Thorin, help us!” he heard his father yelling. Slowly he grabbed his sword again and looked with teary, but hateful eyes at the Orcs. “Do you hear me Moria scum?! You will answer for this!” he yelled as he stood up and rushed towards the Orcs. “Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!” 

Suddenly Thorin felt tears running down his face. He blinked a little a realized again that he was still in his study room. He kept blinking and tried to stop the tears, but he just couldn't. He was so angry, and sad. Angry at the Orcs, and sad because of all his losses....  
He couldn't help when his hand formed a fist and all of a sudden he let out a scream and punched the wall, panting a little. But that only caused even more tears to come up. Thorin didn't even try to fight them anymore. He just leaned against the wall with his back and sank down to the ground, crying and shaking.

**Author's Note:**

> I might should add that I wrote this when I wasn't feeling that well myself. I somehow wanted Thorin to get drunk and have a breakdown, and I thought the birthday of his dead brother could be a good reason for that.   
> I hope you liked this little story anyway


End file.
